The hidden sanctum smelled of dust, stone, and faint magic that lingered like a heartbeat in the air. Riven stepped inside, the faint light of flickering lanterns casting long shadows along the walls. Every step felt heavy, as if the building itself knew he wasn't entirely human.
Azael followed silently, hands tucked into his coat pockets, eyes scanning the perimeter with precision. The storm outside had dwindled to a low drizzle, but the air inside was charged — vibrating with anticipation, danger, and something else, something magnetic that pressed against Riven's chest with every breath.
"Where… is this place?" Riven asked, his voice rough.
"A place where you can learn," Azael replied, voice calm, measured. "Where the world outside cannot reach you… yet."
Riven's mark pulsed beneath his shirt, faint golden light leaking through the fabric. The moment he felt it, the walls around him seemed to shiver. Shadows stretched and quivered like living things.
"I don't even know how to control this," Riven admitted. His voice trembled. "Every time I try… it just explodes."
Azael stepped closer, silver eyes narrowing. "Control is not the first lesson. Awareness is. Feel the power — don't fight it. Let it tell you what you are before it consumes you."
Riven clenched his fists. Heat and cold battled along his veins, light and darkness intertwining. The room shimmered. For a brief moment, he caught glimpses of fire, wings, and voices — a memory that wasn't quite his.
> "Do not falter, my Eternal One."
He stumbled back, pressing a hand to his chest. "I… I keep seeing things. Flashes. Memories… maybe even the past?"
"Then you are ready to awaken," Azael said softly. "But only a fragment. The rest will come with time… and danger."
Riven's chest tightened. "Time? How much… do I have?"
Azael's gaze darkened. "Not enough. They are already hunting you. The Watchers… and others who fear the bridge you were meant to be. You cannot hide forever."
Before Riven could respond, the shadows along the walls twitched. Shapes began to separate from the darkness — first faint, then distinct, almost alive. Eyes gleamed in the dim light, whispering unintelligible words.
Riven staggered, fear and exhilaration mingling. "What… what are they?"
"Part of you," Azael said. "The remnants of what you were and what you will become. Face them, or they will consume you."
Riven's mark flared violently. Energy surged through him — light and dark twisting like coiling serpents. The shadows reached for him, but instead of fear, he felt a pulse of recognition. Something deep inside him — memory, instinct, something eternal — responded.
He extended a trembling hand. The shadows recoiled, then flowed around him like a protective tide. Golden light licked at the edges, darkness pooling beneath, a balance forming between chaos and control.
Azael's expression shifted, a faint smile breaking through his usual calm. "Good. You are beginning to remember… but not enough yet."
Riven's vision blurred. Flashes of fire, falling towers, a hand reaching through smoke — Azael's hand, always Azael's hand — filled his mind. The emotions were raw, magnetic, aching. "I… I remember you."
Azael stepped closer, the space between them charged, heavy, inevitable. "And I have remembered you, across every eternity. That is why I remain."
Riven's heart raced. The hum of the sanctum, the pulse of his mark, and Azael's presence collided inside him. He could almost feel the thread connecting them, invisible yet unbreakable.
"Then teach me," Riven whispered. "Before they come."
Azael's eyes glinted with a dangerous warmth. "We will begin," he said. "But remember… control is never given. It must be taken. And so must trust."
The shadows shifted again, alive and waiting. Outside, distant thunder rumbled — a reminder that the world beyond would not stay quiet for long. Riven inhaled, closing his eyes. He could feel it now: the power surging, the memories whispering, the pull between himself and Azael drawing him forward.
And when he opened his eyes, the shadows bowed slightly, as if acknowledging the awakening of something eternal.
Riven stepped forward. Azael mirrored him. Together, they faced the darkness. Together, they would begin.
The storm outside raged on, but here, in this hidden sanctum, something ancient and unstoppable was stirring.